


Meme: Souji's Dream

by kiwoa (Rinoa)



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoa/pseuds/kiwoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji may be the leader, but there is a scenario where he's (willfully) not in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meme: Souji's Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [http://badbadbathhouse.livejournal.com/736.html?thread=61664#t61664](/gifts?recipient=http%3A%2F%2Fbadbadbathhouse.livejournal.com%2F736.html%3Fthread%3D61664%23t61664).



“Hey, are you gonna finish that?” You shake your head and push your rice bowl into Yosuke’s extended hands. “Thanks, man,” he says with a wink. You watch as his chopsticks click together sharply on a piece of beef. Maybe with the both of you working on it, you could actually finish one of those monstrosities. After only a few bites, though, Yosuke stops and fixes you with a scrutinizing look. You’re about to say something when he hops to his feet and starts to jog across the empty Junes food court. You move to follow him, running as fast as you can to catch up, but he picks up the pace and throws over his shoulder a laughing, “Hurry up!” When you slip into the abandoned liquor store, you can’t see him anymore. Before you can call out to ask where he is, arms wrap around you from behind, pinning yours down, leaving you startled and clasped into immobility.

“Am I stupid?” Yosuke asks from behind you. You shake your head no, and he pulls you closer, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. “You’re telling me the truth, right partner?”

Utter blackness swallows up the features of the liquor store’s interior a few feet ahead of you. You can only see by the light that pools through the doorway and cuts a clean circle like a spotlight at your feet. The merged silhouette of the both of you shivers on the faded floor. “I’m confused,” Yosuke says, and as he continues, the usual slopes of his voice drop out, “but you’ll help me, won’t you?”

You tell him you don’t know if you can help, but you’ll try.

“Thanks.” He loosens his grip, and then he’s in front of you, his eyes flaring, but they’re not yellow. For some reason, that only concerns you more.

“So you don’t think I’m stupid,” Yosuke says slowly, gaze flicking back and forth between your eyes. “You don’t think that, but you think I don’t notice.” You try to ask him what he’s talking about, but he cuts you off. “I’ve noticed. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking at you.” His hands seek out one of yours and lift it, forcing it to brush up his stomach. “You look at me when we’re changing in the locker room after gym, and when I take my jacket off after we get to your place, and-“ He drops your hand and instead latches onto your waist, pulling himself forward into you until you’re so close you can’t make the features of his face come into focus anymore. “-when we’re fighting shadows. You’re the worst about it then.”

You try to interweave your fingers with his, and he lets you get as far as pulling his hands loose, but you’re not prepared for the way he lunges forward after that, the way he hugs you against him and, with one hand cradling the back of your head to soften the blow, drives you back against a wall. “I have my headphones on, and I’m moving to the music,” he says with his cheek rubbing against yours, and he’s panting, and slightly sticky, and when you moan, he just laughs. “I know. It’s not like I’m dancing or anything, but I can tell from the way you look at me that you think it’s hot.” He half-kisses, half-licks your neck and shifts his grip on you to bring one hand under your shirt, stroking above your hipbone. “You think I’m hot. You don’t think I know, but I bet I do.”

He kisses you full on the mouth now, all bite and heat, and as you press your tongue against his and twine your arms over his shoulders, he delves into your pants, into your underwear, and wraps his hand around your cock. You drop your head against him. In the faint light, you can barely make out the quick circuit of his arm as he pumps up and down, but even without that, you can feel it. You can feel the shift of his muscles against your damp forehead, the sway of your bodies with every stroke, the pulse in your head that keeps time, all perfectly synchronized. Suddenly, he breaks from the pattern, and while that hand surges lower to flit over your balls, his other grips your chin and forces you up into another kiss.

“It kills you when I talk about the girls,” Yosuke breathes against your lips, pausing here and there to nip you, lick the corners of your mouth, smile too close for you to see, too close for you to not feel. “Which one’s your type, partner? You want to say Yosuke. You do. You know that if you never tell me, you’ll never have this, right?” That question is punctuated with a firm kiss, one hand fisting at the back of your neck, and his writhing fingers dropping even lower. He pushes one fingertip against your ass, and you try to push back, but he keeps pulling away just enough to never enter. There’s only the pressure. “Since I talk about how much I like their curves, you think it doesn’t matter. If you confessed, you’d just wake me up. And then.”

Finally, as he seals his mouth under your jaw and sucks hard enough to bruise, he plunges his finger into you, or his fingers, you can’t tell, but there’s movement, thrusting, and it’s enough; you’ve wanted for so long that even if you tried to speak, you don’t think you could. “You couldn’t even have the looking without it being all weird,” Yosuke says softly, strangely gentle, especially compared to the firm, sure way his fingers are working in and out of you. “I’d notice for sure.”

He pulls out so far that you can’t feel him touching you anywhere anymore besides the sucking mouth on your neck. It takes effort, but you struggle for some semblance of control. Your hands cup either side of his face and you pull him into a kiss. He laughs breezily, and you just deepen the contact, sealing your mouths together so tight you can feel the air shift as he draws steady breaths through his nose. He’s still laughing as he withdraws his hand from your clothes and breaks away with a quick step backwards.

“Don’t you get it?” The glow to his eyes is gone, and all you can see in his face is a watery shine. “You’re the leader. You could stop me at any time. You could probably have me at any time.”

He shoves you and you fall back onto your futon, the one in your old house, your parents’ house. The midday sun washes through your window and illuminates him from behind, making his hair gleam like a halo and the edges of his frame burn bright with color. His face is impossibly dark. “Why don’t you, leader?” he says. “What’s stopping you?”

There’s an answer to that, but it doesn’t come. You try to find Yosuke’s eyes amongst the shadows. You can’t.

Then he’s on the futon, leaning over you, pushing you down with one forearm against your chest as he undoes your pants. You start to object, to tell him that he shouldn’t do this if he doesn’t want to, but he smothers you with his mouth, sucks your voice dry, and though you’re not aware of lifting your hips for him at any point, soon you feel his palms skating up your naked thighs. He grasps your upper arm with one hand, turns you over roughly, presses you into the futon. With his weight on your shoulder, holding your upper body down, he lifts you up onto your knees with his other arm, and you reach behind you, trying to grab onto him, any part of him, but you can’t quite connect. He lets go of your hips long enough to position the head of his cock against you, then splays his hand at the base of your stomach.

“You want me,” Yosuke says, a smile evident in his tone. You want to repeat it right back at him, but your voice won’t work. He shifts forward just a bit, and you can feel yourself start to stretch with the pressure. “Tell me to stop, leader.”

But he knows you won’t. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he drives his cock completely into you, holding tight to your waist with both hands so you can’t squirm away. You give up on trying to touch him and instead claw at the futon. There’s no pause for adjustment, no asking if you’re alright. Yosuke draws back and slams into you again and again, until your sweat-slick hands slip and you’re left with only your knees, spread wide with Yosuke’s between them, and your cheek pressed against the futon as support. You’re nearly pushed completely off-balance, but he holds fast and pulls you back to meet his thrusts. Just when you think it’s all too much, he stops, his hips flush against your ass, and reaches forward to grip your cock and flick his thumb across the head. “Move with me,” he gasps. He falls back and you go with him, clamped between his body and his tight hand, until he’s sitting on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of you, and you’re sitting, knees on either side of him, in his lap.

“This is good,” he moans as he guides you up a little straighter on your knees, then back down to rest fully on him. “Isn’t it?” You rise up, fall back against him. He drives you up again. “Nevermind.” His chest meets your back, and a hand closes over your mouth. “Don’t answer.”

His other hand seeks out your cock again, and as he strokes down, his cock pushes in, pushes up, and you’re pressed tight, supported by nothing but Yosuke. He lets go and you freefall for only a moment before he’s there again. The air you breathe is filtered by his fingers, and you can’t taste anything but sweat, sweat that’s there because of what he’s doing, because he’s fucking you. He’s all you can feel, filling you, slipping around you, caressing your mouth and kissing your spine and moving to meet your every twitch. Yosuke’s fingers stray past your lips, and as you lick them as if he might disappear if you ever stop, your body jerks and cum spatters into his waiting hand. His thumb draws heavy circles into the head of your cock, making you shake and shout out, until he squeezes you against him and cums deep inside.

You let your head loll back onto his shoulder. He lazily drags his sticky fingers along the length of your cock and sighs, “You’ve seen how I look at you, too. You could have this. All you’d have to do is ask. Why don’t you?” The fingers in your mouth slide under your tongue. “You don’t want this. Not just this, at least.” It feels like you’re sinking into him, like your thighs might just be the same as his now, and with his mouth against your ear, he says, “You want me to lo-“

You jolt awake. Your underwear, gooey and damp, sticks to you uncomfortably. It was a strenuous, embarrassing dream, but your relationship with Yosuke has intensified...


End file.
